


Soldier Down

by Lennelle



Series: Little Green Soldiers [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e22 All Hell Breaks Loose, Gen, shit gets real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 10:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lennelle/pseuds/Lennelle
Summary: “Is Sam…” Adam finally manages. Is Sam, what? Dead? Adam already knows the answer but maybe he should ask anyway in case he’s wrong. Maybe, just maybe, Bobby will say no, of course not, Sam’s going to be just fine.





	Soldier Down

**Author's Note:**

> so basically this verse jumps from one major event to another depending on how much they might be changed by Adam's presence (or how much I want to write it lmao) so here we have All Hell Breaks Loose with one extra brother added to the mix. Things end up quite differently. Prepare yourself.

They get there a few seconds too late. Some army kid shoves a knife into Sam’s back. Bobby and Dean run. Adam hears Dean scream but he himself can’t say a word, he doesn’t even move. He stands there frozen and watches his brother die a few meters away.

Dad and Sam, both dead within months of one another. Sam never liked their father to have the last word.

“Adam, son,” that’s Bobby’s voice and Bobby’s hand on his shoulder but Adam can barely hear him over the rushing in his ears, his blood crashing through his veins like a tsunami. He thinks maybe he’s having a heart attack. “Adam, look at me.”

He does as he’s told because he doesn’t know what else he can do. He can’t breathe, he can’t speak or move, he certainly can’t look over to where Sam’s body is already turning cold in Dean’s arms.

“Is Sam…” Adam finally manages. Is Sam, what? Dead? Adam already knows the answer but maybe he should ask anyway in case he’s wrong. Maybe, just maybe, Bobby will say _no, of course not, Sam’s going to be just fine._

Bobby doesn’t say that. His grip on Adam’s shoulder squeezes ever so slightly and he says, “Come on, son, Dean needs us.”

_And what about Sam?_ Adam thinks. But the logical part of his brain answers, _Sam is way past needing anything, idiot._ He puts one foot in front of the other and miraculously manages to walk, boots squelching in the mud, cold air hugging his face.

Later, when Adam thinks back on this terrible night, the memories of prying Dean’s fingers from Sam’s jacket and lifting Sam up and carrying him towards one of the shithole houses that surrounds them will be a blur, like a barely remembered dream.

Adam sits on the only chair in what used to be a dining room that hasn’t yet been devoured by woodworms and does his very best not to look through the doorway to where Sam is gradually turning greyer and stiffer and colder as the seconds go by. He’s not sure how long they’ve been here, or how long ago Bobby walked out the door, or how long Dean has been sitting beside Sam and talking to him as if he can actually hear him.

Adam has grown up with ghosts and for the first time in his life he looks up and thinks _please, if you’re here, show us._ Sam doesn’t answer.

He startles when a bucket of chicken is placed on the table in front of him, the cartoon hen on the front is far too chirpy and the deep-fried chicken inside is far too greasy. Adam would throw up if he hadn’t already emptied his stomach onto a rotten porch outside earlier.

“You should eat something,” Bobby says. “Dean, you too.”

“I’m not hungry,” Adam says. Dean remains silent, back still to the room.

Bobby sighs and Adam takes note of how red his eyes are and imagines Bobby at some fried chicken drive thru crying his eyes out. He suppresses a laugh but it bubbles out as something that’s a hybrid of laughter and sobbing and he claps his hand over his mouth. Bobby takes off his cap.

“Don’t you think maybe we should start thinking about burying Sam?” Bobby says softly.

“No,” Dean says. It’s the first thing he’s said to either of them since Sam stopped breathing.

“We can’t leave him like this,” Bobby reasons. “We need to put him to rest.”

“Rest?” Dean repeats and the laugh that follows makes Adam shudder. “My little brother is _dead_.”

“I know that,” Bobby says calmly. Adam has no idea how he can stay so calm when Dean is seething and Sam is rotting. “But that demon is still out there. Sam’s killer is still out there. If we don’t do something, the world’s gonna end.”

“Then let it end!” Dean yells.

It’s like something snaps in Adam, like rope has been frayed to its last string and splits in two. He starts to cry. Not just tears wetting his face but the whole package, ugly sobs and hyperventilating to boot.

“Come with me, boys,” Bobby says.

“I’m fine right here,” Dean answers and retakes his perch beside Sam.

Bobby sighs. He knows a lost cause. He glances at Adam, “Come on, son. You can’t stay here.”

But where else can Adam go? School starts in a few hours and Adam hasn’t done any of his homework and Sam is dead on a stained mattress in the next room.

“I can’t, Bobby,” Adam says and his voice is raw and wet and he can taste salty tears on his lips.

Bobby leaves to save the world while Adam and Dean stay behind with a corpse that’s beyond saving.

* * *

He didn’t notice falling asleep but he’s startled awake by the front door slamming shut. For a split second he thinks maybe he fell asleep at his desk in his room at Bobby’s place but the air is too cold and he can smell something like milk turning sour. He lifts his head and there’s Sam, still laid out on that filthy mattress like a saint on his tomb, grey and sallow and very much not like Sam. Dean is gone.

Adam is suddenly filled with anger, a white-hot rage that bursts out of him and sends him speeding out the door just in time to witness Dean starting up the Impala’s engine. He throws himself in front of the hood before Dean can step on the gas and yells, “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Move out of the way, Adam,” Dean replies from behind the wheel. He doesn’t cut out the engine.

“No! You’ll have to run me over!”

“Adam, move!”

“No! I’m not letting you leave me too, you goddamn asshole!”

He’s breathless and shaking and there are tears rolling down his cheeks again as Dean finally cuts the engine. He stays in the driver’s seat for a moment, staring at his hands clamped white-knuckled on the wheel. When he finally gets out of the car, he moves slowly like he’s aged a few decades in the last few hours.

Adam sucks in a breath once the car door falls shut behind Dean and he grips the hood because he’s sure his knees will give out if he doesn’t

“You were going to make a deal, weren’t you?” Adam asks.

Dean won’t look him in the eye as he says, “I can’t let Sam die.”

“Well, he’s already dead!” Adam snaps and he should feel guilty for make Dean wince like that but he’s not sorry at all. “You don’t think this hurts for me too? That this isn’t agony? Maybe I’m only half your brother but you’re the only family I have left now, Dean. Don’t you dare check out on me!”

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and when he finally opens them Adam is surprised to see him crying. “You’re so much like him, you know? You and Sam were always more alike than I ever was.”

“He wouldn’t want this,” Adam says. “If he came back and found out you’d sold your soul, he’d be devastated.”

“I didn’t care. If he’s alive, what else matters?” Dean says, voice cracking on the last word. He walks towards Adam, each step heavy like he’s being weighed down at his ankles and he wraps Adam up in his arms tighter than he ever has in his life. Dean’s not a hugger, not really, but Adam will take this.

They burn Sam as the sun rises and the smell of it is no different to when they set their father aflame.

* * *

Ellen Harvelle is alive and downing a shot of holy-watered down whiskey in Bobby Singer’s kitchen. She grimaces and says, “See, not a demon.”

When she looks up and sees two of the Winchester boys she breaks out into a grin and pulls them into her usually firm embrace, but there’s an empty space in the room and when Ellen’s eyes land on it she asks, “Where’s Sam?”

The looks on their faces must be answer enough and she presses her hand over her mouth, glancing back at Bobby. She wraps them in her arms again, softer this time, and Adam wonders if this is how it feels to be hugged by a mother.

Dean clears his throat and slips out of Ellen’s arms. “So, uh, you got any idea where the demon is heading?” he asks Bobby.

* * *

Jake Talley opens a gate to hell a minute before they all come hurtling into the graveyard, guns raised and aimed right at his back. Dozens of spirits are already making their merry way out into the world.

“It’s too late!” Jake yells over the noise from below. Wails and flames crackling and a song so horrifying Adam wants to run as far from it as he can. Dean points the barrel of his gun at Jake and empties his clip.

“You can rot down there!” he tells him. “And when you crawl back out, I’ll kill you again!”

Jake Talley breathes his last breath with _sorry_ on his lips and next thing Adam knows the ground is a few meters beneath his feet and he meets the earth again with a painful crack to the back of his skull that vibrates all the way down to his toes. Everything slips sideways and fizzles out like an out-of-tune television and when he blinks back into focus, he sees Sam.

Or, a fracture of Sam. His spirit flickers like a lightbulb on it’s last hour, arm twisted behind his back as he’s shoved to his knees by Yellow Eyes.

“Heya, Dean-o!” Yellow Eyes says cheerfully. “I’ve got a deal to propose. Sammy’s soul for yours.”

Adam lifts his head and is hit with a wave of dizziness that nearly knocks him back into a gravestone. Dean is more than an arm’s reach away, struggling against the headstone of a man who was once called _John Walters._

The demon grabs a fistful of Sam’s hair and drags him towards the still-open gate. “This is a one-time deal, Dean!” it calls back. “You’ve got thirty seconds before I send Sammy downstairs. All I need is a yes!”

“Yes!” Dean screams. “Yes! I’ll do it!”

Sam kicks at the ground. His feet make no marks in the mud, they don’t bend a single blade of grass and even though his mouth is wide open, no sound comes out. Adam moves his shaking arms and legs and finds nothing holding them down so he makes his unsteady way to his feet and says, “I’ll make the deal!”

Because he’s already lost one brother, he can’t do it again. Dean directs his yelling at Adam instead but Adam can’t hear it, he can’t hear anything, all he can see are those yellow eyes staring back at him and

Dad.

John Winchester comes crawling out of hell and yanks the smoke out of the demon’s meatsuit. It drops to the floor like an empty sack and Sam clambers to his feet. He and Adam watch the demon slip snuggly back into its vessel just in time for Dean to aim the colt at its chest and fire. This thing they’ve been chasing their whole lives, the demon that’s been in every corner and every shadow and imprinted on every one of their father’s thoughts; it’s all over in seconds.

And Adam can’t find it in himself to care.

“Sam,” Adam says around the lump in his throat. He wants to hug him, even just touch him, wrap his fingers around the sleeve of his jacket and feel him _alive_, but he knows if he reaches out all he’ll get is a handful of cold air.

Neither Sam nor Dad say a word. The smile on John’s face is the first Adam can remember since Sam left for college. He places a hand on Sam’s shoulder and the two of them dissolve until all that’s left of them is two bright lights that drift away to meet the stars.

The demon is dead, the gate is closed, and Adam falls to his knees and cries.


End file.
